Undecided
by Cadence
Summary: Meryl and Wolfwood come to an agreement involving a certain gunman. Can you say threesome? Neither can Vash.


I can't believe this hasn't been done yet

acknowledgements: This isn't my fault. This is Mirth's fault. She a) gave me the idea, b) did nothing to discourage me, and c) beta'ed. And so, thank you muchly, but all flames go to _you_. eg But I'll keep any praise for myself. Just in case.

Undecided

Leaning on the doorframe for fear of gravity, sleep bleared eyes staring into faces backlit by a too bright hallway, Vash wondered if this was joke. A silly drunken joke that wasn't at all funny except to people both twisted and brain dead from drink. Or maybe . . . a bet, he could see that. A little competitiveness overcoming camaraderie as friends . . .

No, not even Vash was idealistic enough to believe that.

But, as tired as he was, he couldn't quite convince himself that it was a joke either. Those eyes - one pair grey, one pair smoky blue - were far too stark and serious as they collectively stared both up and down at him. Both sets held metallic intensity, hope and challenge searing him at cold cross angles. It was more than enough to make a sleep-fogged legend dizzy.

Shaking his head in the faint expectation of finding this to be a bizarre new nightmare, he asked eloquently, "Huh?"

Meryl glared at him. She always glared at him and he always fought back that sweet constriction of his heart that made him want to grin at her and make her that slight bit angrier. But now that expression was somewhat less encouraging, and accompanied by an impatient foot stomp; it was actually fear inspiring.

"We already told you! Weren't you paying attention, or is it not important enough for you to spare your beauty sleep?"

Her unusual partner in crime gave him a long, trailing look before winking, "Not that you need it, Tongari. But I do agree with her, you need to make a decision."

Vash blinked again, looking beyond the pair and speculating on his odds of getting past them. This was absolutely unreal.

Wolfwood crossed his arms and Meryl's foot tapping increased in tempo. It wasn't like he'd led either of them on, so why had it come to this? How could he decide between his best friend and his . . . he didn't know what, but it was an unformed word prodding the back of his mind in a way that seemed important?

He looked to the man across from him, who was diligently attempting to look enticing and encouraging, but came off threatening. Mostly he looked like the insane, too insightful man Vash's thoughts turned to whenever he saw that certain shade of blue that couldn't be defined by any other person. A color that flavored late night thoughts and that he dreamed of tasting.

It wasn't a thought or an emotion. It was that blue, sort of dark, sort of heavy like his voice. A sense. Something maybe he wanted and maybe he loved and maybe he just needed to see again to know.

But Wolfwood slanted his glance past Vash, watching the cat across the way with studied calm.

And her? The girl he smiled at when she wasn't looking? Whose name he never said because it might make her real or his and then he might hurt her? He denied the details of her, those small hands and the flickering emotion he didn't want to read on her face.

Because what if he couldn't look away? What if he heard more than the anger and faded in need of her? If he didn't listen, he didn't die each time her breath touched words that weren't his name.

She stood before him and he dared question. But she didn't speak, only waited with uncharacteristic anxiety for him.

They certainly weren't helping him any on this.

He shifted awkwardly, hesitant to give the only answer he had, "W-why can't I love more than one person?"

With far more aplomb than strictly necessary, Meryl and Wolfwood exchanged a glance. Wolfwood's gaze found it's leisurely, almost satisfied way back to him. His hand flicked in a motion traditionally reserved for cigarettes as he smiled, "We thought you might say something like that."

Really, Vash had no right to be so surprised. His friends were cunning and not at all forgiving of his waffling. However, that foreknowledge did not prevent him from gaping openly as he read the dangerous glint in Meryl's eye.

Overly casual, she shrugged, "We don't mind . . . sharing."

He swallowed nervously and considered backing away from the two, but away was toward the bed and he didn't want to help them out now. His concerns were proven when Wolfwood stepped forward and drew Vash to himself quickly without sacrificing the current distance to what now appeared to be his goal. In fact, he thought Wolfwood might have actually edged him further into the room.

Oh shit.

If not enraptured by the sight of that fascinating shade of blue a bare centimeter from his own eyes he might have seen Meryl's nervous reaction as the priest's lips fell across his own. He continued staring for a moment before he was assured that the kiss was nothing more than a sweet brush and closed his eyes to enjoy it. Vaguely unaware of his actions, he slid the tip of his tongue across a caressing lip. So that was what blue tasted like. Vash felt his friend smile against the kiss.

Meryl cleared her throat. The foot tapping was back as Vash drew away from Wolfwood, who maintained a possessive hand on the blonde man's arm. Vash looked down at the firm grip and back at his friend with an arched eyebrow before Wolfwood sheepishly removed it.

Meryl was decidedly uneasy with the proceedings. Sure, Vash had decided not to decide, but he could just reverse that statement, right? Wolfwood had kissed him and he'd kissed back, and what if that was it?

But without another glance at the dark haired man, Vash was suddenly before her, laying a palm against the edge of her face and leaning in. All the anger and worry drained from her face as she pressed her hand to the back of his neck. On tip toes she met him, silently, with blood or elation humming in her ears. His hand tangled in her hair, soft and black as it caught beneath fingernails.

Carefully, he urged her closer, deepening the kiss and denying the air around them. Her slim body clung to his own and he was sure they didn't need to breathe.

Wolfwood examined the pair critically, grumbling, "I didn't get that much tongue."

Vash ignored him, but nonetheless broke off the kiss. Meryl lowered herself to her feet once more, extended arms refusing to relinquish the embrace. She burrowed into the ragged sweat shirt of his sleep wear, turning her smiling eyes to him.

"Mmm, that would probably be a lot easier on us both lying down," she murmured.

Coming up from behind, Wolfwood ran a callused hand across Vash's shoulders, messy hair tickling the base of his neck as he kissed the outlaw's collar bone. It was in that moment, gently being nudged towards a bed that loomed ever closer and senses blissfully overloaded, that Vash panicked. Caught between the pair, he was unable to disentangle himself from either without falling into the other's eager arms, but he managed to break from their overtures for a moment.

Breathless and far shriller than he'd hoped, he stuttered, "B-but, I have-haven't ever done this before!"

Meryl and Wolfwood paused, sharing a thoughtful moment across his shoulder. Wolfwood stepped around him and pushed him lightly to sit on the bed. Wearing identical "neither have we" expressions, they voiced their curiosity.

"Slept with another man?" began the rumpled looking priest.

"Or had a threesome?" finished Meryl.

Vash's eyes, a blue-green that fascinated both his companions, fell to the floor. A nervous hand rubbed still crackling hair as he looked anywhere but at those doubly adoring and disturbingly compassionate gazes.

"Umm, had sex?"

To the best of their ability, Meryl and Wolfwood managed to keep each other from toppling without actually touching. That and their near hysterical shock Vash filed immediately under Bad Signs. Wolfwood's sharp, unfunny laugh also found itself in that category.

"How?" he gasped. "How is that possible?"

Hugging himself, he mumbled, "Well, I didn't have the time and all the girls are afraid of me and their boyfriends are always threatening me and . . ." he curled more into himself, even quieter, "and what would Rem think?"

"Oh, Vash," sighed Meryl. He wasn't sure what was more disconcerting, Meryl's sudden softness or how quickly she'd curled herself into his lap. When exactly had that happened?

Wearing an irritated expression reminiscent of earlier, Wolfwood slid down next to him, no less close than one would expect in the situation. The priest nipped at an ear, breathing a soft placation, "We'll be gentle."

Meryl's fragile hands framed his face, not incidentally forcing Wolfwood to be elsewhere, lest he lose an eye. She smiled tenderly, "We shouldn't have expected anything else from you."

Vash didn't think he'd ever seen Meryl smile at him as often in the entire time he'd known her as she had in the past ten minutes. For that matter, he didn't think Wolfwood had gone so long without doing bodily harm to his person before.

And what was this "we" stuff?

This time it was Wolfwood who managed to edge out his competition, almost roughly forcing him down on the bed and neatly shoving Meryl out of the way. He grinned at the blonde as he hovered momentarily over Vash, the long, lean length of his body pressing down in a way that made the outlaw gasp.

Wolfwood caught his mouth then, tasting the almost moan and shifting against him to elicit another. Vash's hands slid under the other man's shirt to stroke his sides and lightly grip those supple muscles that were flexing against his own. Between kisses, obviously pleased that his friend was finally warming to his advances, Wolfwood sighed, "Mm, that's nice, Tongari."

Vash's eyes snapped open as several frightening connotations to his nickname suddenly occurred to him. Perhaps feeling Vash's discomfort or, more likely, Meryl's questing hands attempting to remove Vash's shirt, Wolfwood broke off the kiss. He settled back onto his knees, continuing to straddle the blonde and conveniently thwarting escape.

Meryl's fingernails scraped provocatively against sensitized flesh as the fabric rustled. He inhaled the overbearing heat that had collected within the shirt as it paused briefly over his head. Eyes narrowed with delight, Meryl twisted her wrist, discarding the clothing over the side of the bed.

A delicate hand grazed over his shoulder, softly touching a scar, "Isn't that better?"

Vash shivered, and for a moment was almost comfortable with the combined sensation of Wolfwood's weight and Meryl's glancing touches. For confirmation, his lovers tilted closer for another kiss.

And collided with a resounding thump.

"Could you watch where you're going?!" growled Meryl, fingers gingerly exploring what would become a lump.

"Me? I was just taking my rightful turn," shot back the priest, evidently not in enough pain to let go of Vash.

Meryl's free hand clenched, "Excuse me?! I was just trying to get my turn, you greedy . . ." she waved her fist wildly, "Stop bogarting the Vash-lovin'!"

Wolfwood's eyes followed her fist angrily a moment, before he closed them and took a deep, shuddering breath. Letting it out, he attempted to mollify her, "Okay, okay. Maybe I was. But if we're going to go any farther, we're going to have to figure out who's in charge."

She shrugged, "Simple. Me."

"Right, short girl. How exactly?"

"You've met me, haven't you?" she responded glibly.

He nodded seriously. And then extended an arm, easily bowling her over, "I don't think so."

She rocked back upright, eying him disdainfully, "So you're suggesting yourself. Why am I not surprised?"

"I supposed it's just the way God intended things."

Meryl raised an eyebrow, "Exactly which scripture approves of priests having kinky three-way sex with outlaws and insurance agents?"

Wolfwood grumbled something obscene.

Raising his hand, Vash drew the attention back to himself, "Um, how about me?"

"No!" they refused. Oh sure, they chose _now_ to agree.

Meryl laughed shortly, patting him on the cheek, "That's cute, Vash."

Vash blinked. And blinked again as the argument resumed. He pulled himself away from the now distracted Wolfwood, huddling against the bed's headboard with his arms around his knees to watch them. Hiding his face in his leggings, the outlaw smiled. They were both pretty cute when they were arguing, but . . .

_ But what?_ he asked himself in shock. Meryl gestured emphatically at Wolfwood. He barely dodged. They were cute true. But watching them he felt a twist of pain - disappointment and fear and_ . . . too many things_, he sighed internally. Maybe if he could get away he could figure it out. If he stayed, not that it currently seemed like anything was going to happen, he'd just ignore that niggling hesitation.

Without glancing over the side, he snagged his shirt from the floor and slid from the bed. He pulled it on as he walked away, listening to the argument escalate.

"I'm condescending?! I'm not the full of himself priest who, might I add, dresses like a whore!"

Regretful steps took the outlaw completely out of the room. Closing his eyes, hoping to hear something to draw him back, away from his doubts, he leaned against the wall just beside his door.

"What does how I dress have to do with anything, you prim witch?"

There was a choking sound within, high pitched enough for Vash to assume it to be Meryl's shock and not an actual attempt on Wolfwood's life.

"Prim?!"

"Yeah, prim! You dress like my grandma!"

The bed sheets rustled. Ah, the attempt on Wolfwood's life. Apparently he survived, a slightly roughened voice gasping out, "Okay, okay! You don't! But this isn't getting us anywhere."

Meryl let out a shuddering breath and agreed begrudgingly, "You're right, we still don't know who's . . ." she trailed off for a moment. Vash imagined her blushing as she continued, "on top."

They were silent. Vash drew a hand over his face, praying desperately that this was the end.

"Well, we need to be fair for something this important. Paper rock scissors?" Wolfwood suggested

"No better way."

Vash groaned. This was demeaning. And didn't they even notice he was gone? The cheers from inside seemed to indicate otherwise.

"Tie breaker. One! Two! Throw!"

"What is that?" Meryl sneered. "Scissors going for a walk?"

"What does it matter? Scissors are scissors and beat the Hell out of your paper."

Right. They weren't going to be leaving. He wasn't going to be sleeping. As yelling once more commenced, he decided there was only one place for him to find comfort.

The bar.

Vash sighed and pushed away from the wall, determined to ignored the new twist his friends' argument had taken. It almost sounded like they'd found a new way to decide. He paused before the stair case to listen.

"Ha! Donut beats gunman!"

Or not.

He shook his head as he descended. Was that their idea of love?

The distance between Vash and his erstwhile lovers did nothing to muffled Meryl's scream of outrage, "Stop doing dirty things to my gunman!"

Her call was followed by a noise that sounded remarkably like a sexually frustrated, dark-haired priest being forcefully propelled by a small insurance agent out of bed and into the splintery floor.

Vash winced in sympathy.

~ ~ ~ ~

notes: Where to start? Okay, the Vash is a virgin thing. This is an instance of me writing something I personally don't believe (sorta like the Oedipus complex thing). I think he has had some extremely serious relationships in his life and is therefore not a virgin. However, I do think that's it's an under-represented possibility. shrug And I thought it was funny at the time. 

Also, I tried to be even handed when it came to Vash's interaction with Meryl and Wolfwood as love interests. Wolfie gets more action, but Meryl gets a stronger argument (in my opinion). If I come off biased . . . well, I am _biased_ so that shouldn't really shock anyone. But also don't be surprised if my bias switches to an alt pairing in the future. I damn near converted to KxM, you know. 

Trigun is copyright (c) Yasuhiro Nightow and Young King Ours. 


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